


Love Like Waves - part1

by cofie, HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Series: Love Like Waves [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Disney-ish, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Merman Scott, Merman Stiles, Romance, Werewolf Derek, kind of cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-01-20 13:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1512032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cofie/pseuds/cofie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing Derek expects during the Argent’s Halloween party is finding a secret room that has a merman in it. But he figures it’s all part of the party and helps the ‘merman’ free. </p>
<p>Until he realizes that wasn’t part of the party. </p>
<p>Uh. Oops? </p>
<p>--<br/>A Disney-esque mer!stiles/sterek collaboration!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

\--

Derek stares moodily out at the dark ocean and wonders what the hell he’s doing coming back here to this cove. The waves serenely wash over his feet, as though they’re shrugging and replying, ‘Beats me, I just live here.’

 

 _'How am I supposed to call him anyways?'_  Derek wonders to himself, frowning at the next wave that washes over his feet. He can’t exactly start yelling ‘Here fishy fishy fishy!’ or ‘Hey merman!’ out loud. Derek looks over to the Argent mansion and quickly debates the merits of trying to call last night’s merman up by yelling for him. Just as quickly, Derek brushes the thought away. It's too risky.

 

The previous night, Derek and his family had been attending the Argent’s annual Halloween party-slash-treasure-hunt where somehow, Derek had gotten separated from his family/party and wound up in a room with the biggest water tank he’d ever laid eyes on. And there had been a merman swimming around in the waters, staring back at him with bewilderment and delight.

 

Derek hadn’t been  _too_ surprised because every year there was always some whacky/weird side quest in the treasure hunt and this year, Derek assumed, they probably had to save the mermaids. It seemed to fit with the whole nautical theme going on. So Derek had thought nothing of the merman’s requests to be saved. He’d helped the actor out of the tank and proceed to take it out to sea through a secret chamber.

 

After 20 minutes of walking through a dimly lit passage and listening to the man’s incessant chattering (and a quiet admiration for the skill and craftsman ship that had gone into the actor’s tail costume), the pair abruptly found themselves on the beach. “You can let me go over there.” The merman had pointed towards the sheltered bay several meters away. “I just hope that Gerard doesn’t find out that you helped me escape. He’s going to be so mad.”

 

Derek had grunted and just ignored what the man was saying. For the most part. Honestly he’d been more focusing on trying to figure out what material had been used for the scales because they had felt  _real_. But he’d gotten the gist of the story anyways: Gerard had captured the merman and kept him locked up, ready to be sold for a hefty amount of money but Derek, the chivalrous pirate (oh how his family was going to laugh at that), had saved him and freed him and for that, he had the merman’s eternal gratitude.

 

Now, imagine his surprise that after he had returned to the mansion, post freeing the talkative merman who had gifted him with a delicate looking bracelet,  he’d found out that there had been  _no such quest_ where he had to save a merman. Derek had made an excuse about getting bored and walking the beach after getting lost but his brain had been spinning.

 

He had helped a merman escape from Gerard Argent’s basement! Gerard Argent was also part of the magical black market, involved in the illegal capturing and trading of several mythological creatures,  _including merpeople!_ **Mer-people**!

 

Derek scrubs his hands over his face and tries not to groan. He well and truly hopes that no one  _ever_ finds out about what he’s done (even if it was by complete accident) or else… Well, Derek doesn’t want to think about the ‘or else’ part. He might be a werewolf but that doesn’t mean that he can’t have a healthy sense of caution when it comes to the Argents.

 

His hand comes up to rub the merman’s bracelet, fingertips stroking the smooth shell before he gently scraps his nail down the grooves. There’s  _got_ to be  _some way_ that he can make sure that he didn’t imagine last night’s whole adventure. 

 

With a sigh, Derek bends down to roll his pant cuffs up before wadding deeper into the water. He brings both hands up to cup his mouth, ready to yell for the merman when he sees a pale flash from behind one of the rocks. “Hello?” He asks warily, feeling more than a little stupid because basically it feels like he’s talking to the large rock that’s jutting out like a miniature version of Pride Rock. “Is anyone there?”

 

The werewolf waits for several long moments, debating between staying put and swimming towards the rock, when a familiar face peeks at him. “It’s you.” He states dumbly, unable to bring himself to even  _blink_  as he stares into the merman’s amber eyes.

 

"You’re the pirate from yesterday." The merman returns, coming out from behind the jutting rock. Derek’s eyes immediately dip down behind him, staring at the tail that splashes against the water.  _Okay_. Clearly he hadn’t imagined last night. That was nice to know.

 

Mer-people were a thing. Jeez, he needed a moment to process this. “I didn’t think you’d come back here, Mister.”

 

Derek scratches his face and watches the merman swim closer. “Neither did I.” Oh forget it, he needs to sit down. He plops down into the water, feeling a little water as he does so. The water washes over his chest, the foam brushing over his shoulder before they carry on towards the shore. “You’re real…”

 

The merman raises an amused eyebrow as he swims closer, tail splashing yet again. “That’s a strange thing to say all things considering. Did you think that I wasn’t real?”

 

"No one ever told me that merpeople were real." Derek admits, holding his breath as the merman comes in front of him. He stares with wide eyes when the other man takes hold of his right hand and examines the bracelet there. 

 

The merman hums, holding the hand up to his face, turning it this way and that as he examines Derek’s knot work. “We’re really secretive by nature. I think you can understand why.” The sharp amber gaze that’s directed his way makes Derek want to flinch. “I can tell that you’re not human but I don’t know what you are.”

 

As the water rolls back into the ocean, Derek answers. “Werewolf.”

 

It makes the merman’s eyebrows go comically high. “Werewolves are real, Mister?” He chuckles slightly at the amazed look he’s getting. “I knew about selkies, sea witches and water sprites but  _werewolves_!” His amusement doubles when the merman tips his head to the side curiously. “What  _are_ werewolves?”

 

Derek snorts. Of course, how  _could_ a creature who’s spent all his life in water know about land animals. “I know what wolves are but  _were_ wolves?” The merman continues blithely  hands now flitting over Derek’s face and shoulders. “Is it different from being a wolf? How is it that you look completely human? Do you have paws and ears like a wolf?”

 

The questions pour over him like the waves, forcing Derek to raise a hand to stop them. “How do you know about wolves?” He asks instead, flapping his hand to stop the merman from trying to poke him in the ear.

 

"I read. You’d be surprised what you can find in shipwrecks and what people throw overboard." The merman answers, grinning cheekily. The broad grin not only shows off his pink lips but it also draws Derek’s attention to the line of moles on the side of his face. "I like to know everything I can about humans and the Land."

 

Derek jumps when he feels cold fingers tracing the nape of his neck before they come around to tap against his collar bone. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this Mister, but you really don’t look like a wolf.”

 

"Derek." He corrects, catching the merman’s hand with one of his own. "My name is Derek, not Mister."

 

It’s maybe a trick of the moonlight but the merman looks so  _pleased_ with his information. “Derek.” He repeats, testing the name on his tongue. Derek finds himself swallowing on reflex, not sure why his lips suddenly feel so dry. 

 

Derek nods towards the merman. “What about you?” He asks in a gruff tone. “What’s your name?” 

 

The merman grins wryly at him. “I doubt you’ll manage to say it.” Derek rolls his eyes and stares at him, tempted to cross his arms over his chest but he’ll have to let go of the merman’s hand and…. he doesn’t want to do that.

 

He feels more than triumphant when the merman rolls his eyes back at the moon and takes a deep breath. The strange  _noise_ that comes out of the merman’s mouth is high pitched enough to make Derek clap both hands over his ears. The ululation makes him cringe and wince. Okay, maybe the merman was right about the name thing. 

 

"Sorry." The merman apologizes sheepishly. "I tried to warn you." That he did. "The closest way to say my name in your language would be… Stiles I guess." 

 

"Stiles?" Derek repeats cautiously. The merman, Stiles, nods serenely, body brushing against Derek’s crossed legs under the water and seemingly at peace at being held in place by the werewolf. "Stiles." He repeats to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

"So you change only on full moons?" Stiles asks, tail stretching out behind him as he stares up at Derek. For his part, Derek wants to ask if the merman’s pose isn’t uncomfortable because it sure seems like it is. But Stiles seems content with his hands resting on Derek’s knee and chin on top of them.

 

Derek shakes his head, leaning more of his weight onto his hand braced behind him. He curls his hand into the wet sand, enjoying the feel of it under his fingers. “We can change whenever we want. The  _urge_ to shift is highest at the full moon.” 

 

Stiles hums contemplatively, lifting his face up to look up at the sky. The thin moon is well on her way to setting, looking sharp yet elegant in the dark sky. “Could you show me?” Stiles asks as he looks back, excitement causing his face to light up even as his fingers dig into Derek’s knee. Derek watches Stiles' his tail curl around the side. Derek shivers at the feeling of the wet scales brushing against his left leg before nodding.

 

Closing his eyes, Derek inhales the salty scent of the ocean and focuses on shifting to his beta form. It’s made easier and harder thanks to his extreme awareness of Stiles - his chest pressing up against his raised leg, the barest feeling of scales teasing against his toes and, his shallow breathing…

 

"Whoa." Stiles’ awed voice makes him open his eyes. The merman has raised himself as high as he can on Derek’s knee, leaning so far forward that Derek can easily count the freckles on his shoulder. "Where did your eyebrows go?" 

 

Derek laughs and ducks his head, unwittingly putting himself within reach of Stiles’ curious fingers. “And where did this come from?” Stiles muses in amazement, damp fingers carding through the hair on his face. “And these!” He tries not to chuckle at Stiles’ childish amazement when he touches Derek’s fangs. 

 

Just to see his reaction, Derek holds a hand up and lets his claws pop out. Stiles jerks back immediately before all but jumping into Derek to grab his hand as he exclaims, “That is  _amazing_!” Derek laughs harder than he has in a while as Stiles bowls him over with questions.


	3. Chapter 3

"What’s that?" Stiles asks curiously, swimming forward as Derek wades into the water and sits down on the pale sand. A few water drops splash onto the hardcover of the book he’s got in his hand, several more joining them when Stiles moves into his lap and pokes the brown cover. “What kind of book is this?" The merman asks again.

 

Spreading his legs to make enough room for Stiles to wriggle his way between them, Derek raises a curious eyebrow. “You know what books are?”

 

Stiles squirms as he settles in, his back against Derek’s chest, sliding down so that his hair is tickling the underside of the werewolf’s chin. “You’d be surprised to learn what people tend to throw away.” Stiles returns, snatching the book out of Derek’s hands so that he can examine the cover. “And of course ship wrecks but those don’t happen too often these days. What kind of book is this?”

 

Derek shivers lightly when he feels Stiles’ tail fin brush past his leg before it swishes to the other side. He reaches out to turn the book right side up and flips it open. “It’s a map of the world.” Derek explains, opening up to the global map that shows the continents and oceans. “I thought you might get a kick out of this.”

 

He’s tempted to rest his chin on Stiles’ hair but is glad he doesn’t because Stiles sits up with a sudden jerk that would have knocked against Derek’s chin  _hard_. “That’s the world?” Stiles asks with wonder, holding the Atlas at arms length. “It’s so  _big!_ " His elbow presses into Derek’s ribs. “Can you tell where we are?"

 

 

Derek leans in, cheek brushing against Stiles’ face as he taps the spot on the paper. “Somewhere here. There’s a more detailed map forward where I can show you exactly where we are.” The merman’s tail swishes excitedly under the water, sends strong ripples to clash against the soft waves. “Want me to show you?” Derek asks, trying not to smile. Stiles' enthusiasm and curiosity is catching. 

 

"Yes!" Stiles declares, fingers already flipping through the book. “What do all these symbols mean?" He asks immediately. “And these lines?"  

 

Derek spends the next 30 odd minutes answering all kinds of questions until Stiles gets bored with the book. By this point, he’s moved out of Derek’s lap and is hanging off his shoulder like a toddler, cool cheek pressed against Derek's warm one. His brightly colored tail is curled around Derek’s body, transparent fin swaying peacefully between the werewolf’s crossed legs. Derek amusedly wonders if merpeople are part feline or if being so cuddly is a Stiles trait.

 

The merman’s been chattering away about his life under the sea, sharing all kinds of details about how merpeople live. Derek pays attention to it all, confusion rising and falling as Stiles often segues into a seemingly unrelated topic. Derek can’t quite understand how the merman went from talking about the underwater market to suddenly explaining how clams were the most temperamental and grumpy creatures  _ever_.

 

Right now, he’s regaling a story about his best friend, Scott and an octopus when Derek’s eyes drift down to Stiles’ tail. He doesn’t really think when he rests his hands against the strong muscles and strokes down the scales. The dull red color looks especially vibrant in the light of the setting sun, showing off the faintest golden tint when Stiles shifts.

 

Stiles’ entire body twitches, head to fin, when Derek’s hand slips under the water in its caress. “Sorry.” He apologizes immediately, looking back apologetically at Stiles.

 

The merman leans back slightly, arm still wrapped around Derek’s shoulder so that his hand is tucked away in the werewolf’s shirt pocket. “It’s okay." Faint pink tints the merman's cheeks. "It felt nice.” Derek still feels like he’s done something wrong where Stiles sighs heavily and brings his tail up out of the water.

 

The water drips down the dark scales when Stiles takes hold of his own fin and sighs heavily. “My summer colors’ve almost faded.” He sounds so put out on the matter that Derek wants to reassure him almost immediately. “I really don’t like it once summer’s over cause my colors get really dull and just… I like it better when it’s nice and bright.”

 

 

Tentatively, Derek reaches out to hold other end of the pale translucent fin. The sensation of thin spines and cartilige under his fingertips entrances him as Derek replies, “I think your colors right now are pretty nice too.” It’s not the brightest shade of red, far from to be honest, but the dull red shade seems very ‘autumn’ to him. It stirs up memories of leaves crunching under his boots, a warm coffee in hand and a cool wind teasing his hair. 

 

His fingers trace a stiff spine down until Derek is contemplatively scratching against a patch of scales that look a little darker than the rest of Stiles’ tail. Maybe the color darkens in patches? Or from tail to top? Top to tail? Derek’s got the question on the tip of his tongue when Stiles suddenly twists around and lands in Derek's lap.

 

With a tiny, surprised ‘oof!’, Derek gives the merman a surprised look. Stiles however, wriggles until his tail is in Derek's lap and begs, "More. Please don't stop. Keep doing that scratchy thing."  The pink tint on his face darkens as he lets out a strangely pleasant trilling noise that’s echoing from his throat. 

 

"What?" Derek asks in confusion, looking back down into his lap. He feels Stiles' fin brush against his forearm, wet and smooth. “You mean this?" The trilling noise goes higher when Derek carefully scratches the dark patch of scales again.

 

Amusement floods him when Stiles falls forward with a happy, “That feels  _nice_! A little higher… no higher. Ooooo there there yeeeeeah~” Derek uses both hands to scratch up and down Stiles’ tail, laughter bubbling up his chest when Stiles arches up like a happy cat, the trilling noise now rising and falling in an rhythmic pattern. 

 

 

Stiles stretches his fingers out, turning around so that Derek can scratch the 'front' of his tail. “Other side too please.” He asks, grinning happily as he meets Derek’s eyes.

 

"I didn’t think merpeople could be ticklish." Derek admits, scrubbing his hands up and down Stiles’ tail.

 

The large fin is splashing in the shallow water, causing fat water drops to smack Derek in the face. He winces and looks away towards Stiles in order to avoid getting any of the salty water in his eyes. Stiles is flopped over on his back now, arms crossed under his head, eyes closed and grinning up at the orange sky. “We’re not. It just feels really nice.”

 

Figuring that it must be something similar to scratching a cat or dog’s back, Derek gives the scales half way up Stiles’ tail a good scratch before he stops. “Noooo!” The merman whines, pushing himself up immediately. “Why did you stop? More!”

 

Derek simply nods towards the horizon that can be seen through the jutting rocks. The sun has set, the last remnants of light slowly being covered under the night’s deep blue blanket. Stiles glares at the darkening sky as though it’s personally offended him before sighing heavily. “Alright, alright.” He grumbles, moving his tail out of Derek’s lap. 

 

Stiles swims/wriggles his way into deeper water while Derek pushes himself up to his feet. His jeans and underwear are more than thoroughly soaked, just like his shirt. He’s glad that he had the foresight to bring a change of clothes with him this time around. “I’ll see you tomorrow right?” The merman’s question pulls him out of his thoughts.

 

"I have some errands to run for my Mom in the morning." Derek replies, wondering how fast he can manage to get everything on the list she’d given him today. “I’ll try to come around noon."

 

"Noon?" Stiles asks, eyebrows dipping down in confusion.

 

Derek points up at the sky. “Some time around when the sun’s right over your head.”

 

Stiles looks up at the darkening sky before nodding. “Okay.” There’s an odd awkward moment where they both stare at each for a long moment before Stiles dives under the water and reappears several feet away. “See you tomorrow Derek!”

 

—

 

Derek’s toeing his sneakers off when Stiles’ pops out of the water. “You’re late!” Stiles declares immediately, swimming into the shallow water, right up to the small rock formation that sits on the right side of the jutting rocks. It’s just large enough for two people to sit side by side, or one werewolf and one merman with a tail that never stops moving.

 

Sure enough, Stiles’ tail is swishing back and forth impatiently as he watches Derek wade through the water to reach the rock. “You said you’d be here by noon.” The merman complains, hands reaching out for the white bag Derek’s holding well above the water. “The sun’s moved past the middle!”

 

Derek looks up at the sky before giving Stiles a dry look. “I’m not  _that_ late.” Does 10 minutes past 12 count as late?, Derek wonders as he puts the bag he's brought with him down next to Stiles before settling down on the rock. Derek can hear his mother’s voice in his head, chiding him that  _yes_ Derek, 10 minutes past  _is_ late. He ignores it in favor of sitting down on the warm rock next to Stiles. 

 

The merman is examining the shopping bag intently, grinning as his every grab and pinch causes the bag to crinkle and make noise. Derek reaches over to take it out of Stiles’ hands before his actions damage the bag contents. But the merman retains his hold, fingers curling into thin material. “I’m playing with that!” He complains with a tiny pout.

 

Shaking his head fondly, Derek begins to untie the knot on top. “You can play with it later. Just let me… Here we go.” Derek pulls the paper bag out of the shopping bag, handing the latter over to Stiles. The merman peeks inside the white plastic, doing his best to stick his head  _into_ the bag before he pulls out a small soda bottle. Derek bites his lips when Stiles eyes the bright green color of the bottle before he takes a careful sniff.

 

His examination continues by turning the bottle upside down, rubbing the condensation drops away and finally, giving the bottle a good hard shake. Making a metal note to be careful when opening the bottle, Derek gestures for Stiles to come closer to him. Stiles immediately shuffles forward, both hands holding onto the soda bottle.

 

"I thought you might enjoy trying some human food." Derek begins, opening the paper bag from the top. He’s got a a burger for himself, salad for Stiles (because the merman had told him a story about making a bad seaweed dish so, Derek’s assuming that merpeople are vegetarian mostly?) and 2 helpings of curly fries. And the soda but Derek can’t imagine that Stiles will like the fizzy liquid. 

 

First he pulls out the salad, pulling the top off before he exchanges it for the soda in Stiles’ hands. “That’s a salad. It’s mostly plants and stuff.” Derek isn’t sure how to explain the concept of sauces so stuff it is. “And you eat it with this.” He demonstrates by spearing a piece of tomato and holding it out in front of Stiles’ mouth.

 

The merman leans in to sniff the tomato, immediately making a face. “It smells so…  _sharp_!” Frowning in confusion, Derek takes the salad container back to sniff at it. It can’t be that the salad’s gone bad? Oh. “Do all plants smell like that?” Stiles asks, taking the fork out of Derek’s hands.

 

"It’s just vinegar." Derek answers, holding the container back out for Stiles. “It’s a flavoring, to make food taste better." With a distrustful hum, the merman glares at the tomato before he finally takes a tiny little bite. It’s hard to stop himself from chuckling at the face Stiles makes. 

 

"Yuck!" Stiles complains, rubbing the back of his hand against his tongue before he smacks his lisp together. “That tastes horrible!" The affronted look makes Derek hide the rest of his chuckles behind his fist. “It’s way too sharp and it hurts my tongue! I don’t like salads at all!"

 

The determination in which Stiles says that is just… Derek’s shoulders shake as he pulls the burger out. His voice is shaky in the same way as he pulls the paper off. “I’m not sure how you’ll like this then.” Derek warns, peeled the paper off just enough to get a good bite in.

 

Stiles is looking at the burger like it might bite him instead of the other way around. So Derek explains the different parts of the food as best as he can - breaks off some of the bun and offers it to Stiles, followed by a pickle, onion, a tiny bit of the grilled chicken and a dollop of mayonnaise that Stiles wipes off the wrapping paper. The bread is ‘not bad’. The pickle and onion are a complete bust. The chicken is ‘Kind of like shrimp but tastier!’ and the mayonnaise is ‘tasty!’.

 

While Derek tries to open the soda bottle without half the contents fizzing out, Stiles pulls the paper bag towards him and cranes over to examine the remaining contents. “What’s that?” He asks, hand already pulling out a container of curly fries. “Is this food too?” Stiles asks, blinking in confusion at Derek.

 

Derek plucks one curly fry out from the group. “Yep. They’re curly fries. You make them by deep frying a potato. That's a vegetable too.” He answers, popping the fry into his mouth. Mmm, good and crunchy, just the way he likes it. “Try one.” Derek urges, going back to unscrewing the top off the PET bottle while holding it out over the water and away from himself. The sofa fizzes angrily, spluttering out through the cap for a few seconds before settling back down. Derek turns back to make sure Stiles didn't see that. Derek is taken aback at the sight before him.

 

The merman has stuffed his mouth full of curly fries, looking more like a surprised chipmunk than a merman. There's two small fries sticking out of his mouth as well. They both blink at each for one moment before Stiles speaks past his  _huge_ mouthful. “Theesh ‘re pretty gud.”

 

"You don't say." Derek laughs, watching Stiles struggle to chew and swallow his giant mouthful.

 

Shaking his head at Stiles, Derek pulls out his own curly fries and hands them over. "Here, you can have these too." The merman makes a happy noise and grabs the container with both hands. Derek shakes his head and stops Stiles from stuffing his face  _again_. “One at a time.” He says, holding one fry out in front of Stiles’ mouth. “It’s not like they’re going to run away if you take your time eating them.”

 

Making an unamused face, Stiles picks up two fries and begins to chew on them deliberately. Derek snorts when they’re immediately joined by two more. “I can’t help it!” Stiles comments, “They just taste so good!” Before Derek can dryly point out that yes, he knows that, Stiles stuffs his mouth full  _again_. 

 

Derek blinks in amazement as  _somehow_  Stiles manages to chew and then swallow the entire contents of his mouth. “I liked those!” Stiles declares, checking the empty bag for more fries. He makes a mournful face at the single curly fry that he finds. 

 

"I could tell." Derek comments, taking a bite of his burger. Stiles nibbles on the curly fry in the meanwhile, an utterly dejected expression on his face. “What about you?" He asks, pushing the lettuce back under the bun. “What do you usually eat?"

 

Fry done with, Stiles turns his attention to the paper bag and the ketchup bags therein. “Mmm lots of things. There’s seaweed and lots of different fish. Oh and the…” Derek watches the frown crease Stiles’ forehead. “I don’t know what you humans calls it. It floats around, is about this big and has lots of arms.”

 

That could either be an octopus, squid or jelly fish. “Maybe you can bring one with you next time?” Derek suggests, pushing the last bite into his mouth and chewing on it quickly.

 

Stiles seems more than happy at the prospect of another meeting. “Good idea!” 

 

—

 

Stiles rubs his belly as he swims back home, groaning at the prospect of dinner. Uuurgh, he really hopes that the rumbling in his stomach is simply the result of eating too much and not his metabolism being unhappy because of the human food. What had Derek called them? Curling fries? Hmm, that doesn’t sound quite right.

 

"Stiles!" A familiar voice calls from behind. Before he can turn around, Stiles finds himself being tackled. Stiles yelps and loop-de-loops as a result. Unfortunately, it makes his stomach flip as well.

 

As soon as they're not moving, Stiles puts one warning hand on Scott’s shoulder, the other slapping against his mouth. His best friend pulls away to give him a concerned look. “You okay? You look a little sick."

 

The firm way that Scott strokes his back prompts Stiles to let out a sudden burp that makes him feel better immediately. “Thanks Scott.” Stiles slaps his best friend on the back. “I needed that.”

 

"Yeah, no problem." Scott replies, floating back a few inches. There’s a worried look on his face that immediately makes Stiles feel guilty. “I went to your place and you weren’t there! I thought you’d said that your dad wasn’t letting you leave after you’d come back."

 

Ah yes. That. Stiles hasn’t mentioned this to Derek but ever since his return back home, his Dad has gone into over-protective mode and told Stiles to stick to town, stop exploring and stay far away from the surface as possible. And also enlisted Scott’s help in the matter.

 

Had he mentioned that he hasn’t told either of them about Derek and how he’s been meeting up with him? His dad is too scared of loosing him again while Scott is naturally distrustful of humans, like any other merperson actually. So Stiles  _knows_ that his best friend would completely disapprove of his almost daily interactions with the handsome human.

 

"I went to find Iska." Stiles answers smoothly, resuming his journey back home. He feels bad for using the dolphin as an excuse but there  _have_ been times when he’s gone looking for Iska and come back hours later. It’s a completely plausible excuse.

 

The contemplative look that Scott gives him makes Stiles’ stomach twist and turn. “Did you find her?” The merman asks, keeping up with Stiles’ brisk pace. 

 

"She was by the coral patch." Stiles lies easily. “Hey, I’m gonna see how my dad’s doing so I’ll see you later? Maybe tomorrow?" As soon as Scott nods, Stiles swims away towards his dad’s station and misses the way his best friend stares at his back.

 

—

 

What Scott doesn’t understand is how lightly Stiles seems to be taking the fact that he had been captured by  _humans_. How can Stiles so easily return to the surface after his kidnapping? It’s like he hasn’t learned his lesson at all. Scott wants to swim back under, bring Stiles’ dad back up with him and get him to drag Stiles back.

 

But the manner in which Stiles is fidgeting as he sits on the flat rock in the bay, continuously checking the bag on his hip and looking at the shore, keeps Scott in place. There’s nothing about Stiles’ body language that says that he’s in danger or has been coerced in showing up. It seems to Scott that Stiles is waiting for someone. But who?

 

His best friend doesn’t even flinch when a human pushes his way through the thick bushes. Scott however, is startled to the point he nearly ducks all the way underwater in surprise. His eyes remain above surface however, watching Stiles raise his hand and wave excitedly.  _‘What’s going on?’_  Scott wonders as he watches the human wave back wiht a smile before he swims up to the rock as well.

 

From his hiding place behind the larger rocks that hide this tiny bit of beach from the rest of the ocean, Scott observes the pair. Stiles is gesturing in his usual animated manner, face and eyes bright as he pulls out something from his pouch.

 

 

Scott watches the human and how his face pinches into a weird expression before he says something that sounds a lot like, “But jellyfish are poisonous!” Stiles makes the same face that Scott is pulling because huh? Since when? And more importantly, what's going on here? Do Stiles and the human know each other? Since  _when_? 

 

While Stiles explains that no, ‘jellyfish’ aren’t poisonous to merpeople (and ‘are really tasty if you just mix them together with this special plant’), Scott wonders yet again, what’s going on with his best friend. He thinks back on what Stiles had told him. He’d been swimming close to shore when he’d caught sight of something. When he’d gone closer to explore, Stiles had been trapped in a net. Next thing he knew, he was being tossed into a water tank by some old human. A few days later, another human had helped him escape and Stiles had made his way back home. 

 

_Clearly_ , Stiles has skipped out on a lot of details. _A lot_ , if the looks Stiles keeps giving the human are anything to go by. Scott wants to groan and hit his head against the rocks because only Stiles would wind up falling for a  _human_. 

 

While Scott is groaning over his best friend, a very familiar noise makes him look back. Iska is floating several feet away, chittering happily at a few seagulls before she swiftly makes her way over to him. “Iska! No!” Scott hisses, ducking down under the water in the hopes that the dolphin won’t come any closer and thereby catch Stiles’ attention.

 

Scott heaves a relieved sigh when Iska gets the hint and swims away, making a beeline for Stiles. Cautiously, Scott presses up against the rocks and peeks at the pair. The human looks surprised by the dolphin but Stiles is cooing with delight. Iska is enjoying being petted by Stiles, who is now submerged in the water. The human is making a dubious kind of face at whatever Stiles is saying before he drops into the water as well.

 

There’s an easy kind of camaraderie between the pair as they swim in the deeper water, splashing and yelling at each other like kids while the dolphin swims around them. The human jumps every time the dolphin sneaks up behind him and pokes him, swimming away before he can say or do anything.

 

 

"It’s her way of playing." Stiles explains with a laugh, arm curled over the dolphin’s back as she leans in to press her beak into Derek’s face. The utterly surprised look on the man’s face amuses Stiles to no end clearly. Scott doesn’t quite get the joke but he understands enough.

 

And he knows that he needs to talk to Stiles about this. 


	4. Chapter 4

Scott has been looking for Stiles for a while until he finally finds his best friend perched on top of a flat rock near the edge of their city.  
Stiles is staring down at the scales bracelet in his hands, threading the maroon and gold tinted scales together into a thick band - the sight of which makes Scott’s heart leaden with worry.  
  
Here’s the thing about merpeople. Humans have all these strange notions that mermaids are magical creatures, with their blood and scales being the most valuable part of them. Especially their scales thanks to the gold or silver patches that crop up on their tails.  
  
But the truth of it is that there’s nothing really magical about a merperson’s blood or their scales. While every merperson has the potential for magic, on their own? They aren’t strictly magical.

_

However, despite the fact that there is nothing inherently magical about their scales, making a present - a bracelet or a necklace - out of your own brightly colored scales? That is something very special. You only do that with your Intended and no one else. It demonstrates the dedication and love you hold towards the other person - that you’re willing to use your best scales, bind them together into a gift and present them to another person.  
  
This is so much worse than he’d expected. Scott scrubs his hands on his hips and wonders how to approach Stiles. It would be best to take the direct approach but that increases the changes of his best friend getting mad at him and just swimming away. He needs to figure out a way to make Stiles stay and listen about how dangerous this infatuation is.  
  
But before Scott can figure out an answer for his dilemma, Stiles has finished his task and is off.  
  
-  
  
Derek hurriedly shucks his jacket and shoes off, eyes roaming over the water that’s rolling up the beach. He’s more than a little late for today’s meeting thanks to various reasons that have made Derek want to curse the universe for the crap day.  
  
He’s rolled his jeans up as high as he can before he wades into the water, hissing in irritation as he steps on a shell. Derek glares at the offending pink shell before he steps into deeper water. “Stiles?” He calls out hesitantly, fingers rolling his long sleeves up his arms.  
  
A seagull cries out overhead, the ocean continues it’s roaring conversation with the shrill wind that’s doing it’s best to pull Derek’s shirt out from where it’s tucked into the man’s jeans. “Stiles!” He tries again, almost waist deep in the water as he moves towards the rock where they usually sit.  
  
But there isn’t any sign of the merperson. Derek stands on the edge, knowing that one more step and he’ll have to swim instead of wade through the water. He wonders if Stiles has already left or is late as well.  
  
Slowly, the man turns around to stare at the shoreline. Maybe he can wait out on the beach instead of out on the rock? Then again, there’s a higher chance of someone catching sight of him if he sits on the pale beach. But it would be far more comfortable. Plus the day’s weather is on the chilly side, especially in the shaded area.  
  
Decision made, Derek begins to wade back towards the beach. He’d rather wait for Stiles while soaking up the warm sun. Maybe even catch a quick nap as he dries off.  
  
There’s a splash and a sudden weight smacking into his back. Derek doesn’t yell but it’s a close call as he smacks face first into the cool water. Choking and spitting out the salty water, Derek twists around to glare at whatever has just tackled him.  
  
Stiles is grinning down at him, drops of water dripping off his hair as he teases, “Gotcha!” Derek feels the merman’s tail swishing between and against his legs, clearly delighted at having caught Derek off guard. “And you’re late!” Stiles accuses, mock frowning as he leans dangerously close. “Why are you late?”  
Derek flinches as a few drops of water fall perilously close to his eyes, making him want to wipe his face clean. But he’s got one hand pressing into Stiles’ ribs and the other… the other is frozen half way up to Stiles’ pretty face, in awe of how good he looks and how close they are.  
  
Do merpeople don’t have the concept of personal space or is this a Stiles thing? Or is it a them thing?  
  
That last thought makes Derek swallow, throat suddenly as dry and rough as sand paper. “I ran late running some errands.” Derek explains through dry lips, completely entranced by the color in Stiles’ cheeks and the bright glimmer in his eyes.  
  
Stiles huffs, wriggling until he’s seated across Derek’s lap. “Well. If you had to run errands then I suppose it’s alright.” Derek stares up at the merman, too startled at the suddenly change to do anything more than gape at him. “Oh for!” Stiles huffs, using both hands to drag Derek into a seated position by tugging on his wet shirt.  
  
He finds the manhandling a tiny bit amusing. And hot. Stiles is stronger than Derek has thought. That is… unexpectedly nice. “I have a present for you.” Stiles says, making Derek blink at the merman. He watches the man put his hand into the pouch he keeps tied around his waist and pull out a thick band.  
Derek’s gaze darts up at Stiles’ before he looks down at the bracelet. It’s roughly 2 inches thick in width, line after line of 3 scales joined together with a thin black thread. “A bracelet?” Derek asks, gentle fingertips stroking over the red and gold item.  
  
He stares and stares at how the colors shine and gleam under the cool sun, admiring how the scales look as Stiles fiddles with the bracelet. “I uuh… I made it for you. With my own scales.”  
  
That makes Derek’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Your own… How did you collect the scales?” He runs a reverent fingertip over the pretty trinket, stroking the burnished gold color gently. As though he’s afraid a stronger touch will smear the shade away to nothingness.  
  
“I uuuh pulledthemout?” Stiles blurts out, hiding his face from Derek.  
Staring at the merman, Derek gapes at the bracelet before he asks, “You pulled them… Didn’t that hurt?”  
  
Stiles scratches a hand through his hair, making the damp strands stand up in a crazy manner. “Not really? I just… pulled out the ones that I would have rubbed against a rock?”  
  
Wondering if it’s anything like how a snake sheds its skin, Derek turns his attention back towards the bracelet. He keeps running his fingers over the liquid smooth scales and wonders if he can accept this gift.  
  
“Can I put it on you?” Stiles asks in a small voice, questioning and hopeful in the same breath. He looks up and sees that Stiles is looking at him with a look of such abject earnestness that Derek can do nothing but nod his head.  
The look of utter relief that spreads across Stiles’ face makes Derek wonder just how much courage it has taken the merman to give him this gift. Stiles’ fingers shake slightly as he ties the bracelet tight around the other man’s right wrist, knotting it a few times to ensure a snug fit.  
  
Stiles’ runs his fingers over the bracelet, smiling at it in a way that coaxes a smile out of the werewolf as well. “Thank you.” Derek says quietly, fingers returning to touching the scales. They bump into Stiles’ fingers already immediately.  
Instantly there’s an urge to tangle his fingers with Stiles’, use them to pull the merman closer to him and kiss him. To kiss him so hard that Stiles gasps into his mouth, breathes in Derek’s air before asking for more. “You like it?” Derek stares at Stiles’ lips as he forms the words, sucking in a harsh breath before he reigns himself in and nods.  
  
—  
  
From under his seaweed cover, Scott makes his way towards one of the rocks poking their way out of the water. He hides behind the large rock, dragging the seaweed out of his hair with a grimace before he stares at the empty beach.  
This spot is a little way away from where he’d last seen Stiles and Derek but Scott doesn’t want to risk almost being caught again. Better to stay slightly at a distance and watch from there.  
  
Except the part that there’s nothing to watch from this spot. Scott slides down against the rock, sighing as he stares at the small entrance that leads to the private space where Stiles and Derek meet. ‘This was a terrible idea.’ Scott grumbles to himself, glancing distractedly at the beach before looking back at the entrance.  
  
He does a quick double take, staring a the figure making it’s way down the beach. His heart begins to hammer inside his chest, so hard, so fast that Scott worries that he might be ill. The figure is a human girl and she is the prettiest girl that Scott has ever seen.  
  
Her hair is dark, the same as her eyes. She’s wearing the peculiar things that all humans like to wear but every bit of her is covered, sans her face. She’s also wearing something that covers the lower half of her face.  
  
Scott leans heavily against the rock, staring at the girl as she pulls the cloth down to reveal a sharp jawline and a wide smile she’s directing at a large conch shell that is resting by her feet. Pressing his cheek against the warm rock, Scott sighs dreamily as the girl holds the shell up to her ear.  
  
Maybe, Scott muses, humans aren’t all that bad.  
As the smitten merman watches the human girl walk around the beach in search for seashells to add to the satchel on her hip, he misses the sharp, pale eyes observing him from afar and the sly grin that accompanies them.


	5. Chapter 5

Derek stares at the two bracelet’s that he’s taken to wearing and wonders. Is there any special significance to either of them? He rotates his right wrist, eyeing the blue stone and white shells around it before deciding that no, this one doesn’t hold any greater meaning. This one had been a gift borne out of gratitude.

The red one however…. Derek frowned and held his left arm up, hand fisted as he slowly twisted it mid-air. The maroon and golden scales glittered and shimmered under the white light, looking as though they were imbued with a life of their own. His second hand came up to stroke over the scales, entranced by the soft-hard feel of them under his fingertips.

He looks up when he hears a soft click, the door creaking open to reveal his mother blinking at him. “Derek.” Talia says from the doorway, “What are you doing in here?”

"I wanted to ask you something."  
He replies, pushing him up to his feet. Derek holds his mother’s shrewd gaze, body stiff until she closes the door and steps into the study.   
Talia sits down in her armchair, gesturing for her son to sit down on the ottoman before the seat. “What is it?” She asks kindly, pressing her knees against Derek’s legs as soon as he’s seated.

The man smiles reassuringly in return to her slightly worried tone. “It’s nothing bad. I just wanted to ask if you knew anything about mermaids.”

Clearly thrown for a loop, the alpha werewolf stares at her son before she frowns in thought. “Not a lot.” Talia begins, “Only that they dwell away from the coast in deeper waters. They prefer to keep their own company and their own colonies but that is mostly a result of humans trying to hunt them for their scales and blood. Why do you ask?”

With a shrug, Derek admits, “I think I saw one the other night at the beach.” He hopes that his mother doesn’t notice the lie. The funny part is that she never needs to rely on her werewolf senses to tell when her children are lying to her. She just seems to  _know_ when any of them lie, no matter  _how_ much truth they mix with their lies. Laura calls it ‘Mom’s Lie-dar’ skills. Derek just calls it her Mom skills.

Blessedly, Talia doesn’t ask him what he was doing out on the beach alone and asks, “Our beach?” She gives her son a puzzled look. “How can that be? Mermaids rarely come this close to land. Are you sure you didn’t just see a fish?”

"With red scales?" Derek asks wryly.

Talia rolls her eyes, giving her son that point. Derek is ready to ask if they have books in the family library on mermaids when he sees his mother’s gaze land on his left arm.  _Shit._

Derek twitches in his seat when his mother takes hold of his left hand and squeezes it gently. “Red scales huh?” There’s a teasing edge to her voice that makes Derek want to blush like he’s 7 again. “Sure you didn’t just  _see_ a mermaid?”

Okay, maybe the reason why their mother can always figure out they’re lying is because they’re all shit at lying. “I might have… met one.” Derek grudgingly admits to her hands. “He might have given me the bracelet. Both of them.”

The quiet hum his mother makes makes Derek look up. That’s not a bad noise but it is definitely on the cautious side. “Is the red one made from his scales?” Thalia asks, fingers hovering close to the bracelet but not touching it. Derek nods, worry making his heart race.

"That is curious." Thalia murmurs in a far away voice. Derek wants to ask if that’s a good thing or a bad thing when his mother looks at him. "We have a few books that talk about mermaids but the information in them is more general than specific. If you want to learn more, I can ask our emissary for help."

With a grateful smile, Derek nods and squeezes his mother’s hand. 

—

"Poseidon strike me down, what am I doing." Scott mutters to himself as he surfaces. With one hand he sweeps his wet hair back, eyes straining towards the shoreline in search of the Girl. He’s been coming to the surface every day for over a week now, returning near the same Sun Time when he’d last seen her collecting shells.

Unfortunately, he’s not caught sight of her once since then. But Scott is not deterred. The girl  _has_ to return. He knows this down to his fin that she will come back to the beach sooner or later. Or maybe he needs to more seriously consider changing the Sun Time at which he comes to look at her?

Scott swims towards the rock formation he hides behind to watch the beach. There’s two humans out today - a woman and a man. The female’s hair is the same color as some merpeople’s dull gold scales and Scott would say that she was pretty were it not for the sour look on her face as she converses with her companion. 

The other human is a man. Tall, older than the lady if his light colored hair is anything to go by. He looks tired as they talk, her gesturing wildly while he remains stoic and replies in softer tones. ‘ _An argument.’_ Scott decides easily enough. _'I wonder if they’re related to each other or lovers…’_

The tableau, even without sound, entrances Scott long enough that he forgets the time. It’s only when the sky has turned a brilliant shade of orange-pink that Scott realizes his mistake. ‘ _Crap crap crap_!’ Scott curses with one last look at the couple walking away. 

He swims away from the rock formation, diving into the cool water without a second thought. If he dawdles any longer, his mom is going to worry. Scott is debating taking a short cut through the trench when a bright glimmer in the corner of his eye makes him pause.

Scott turns to squint down at the dark ocean floor. There isn’t enough light and there’s too much marine life moving, shifting about for Scott to be sure but… there’s something down there. Something from the Land.

He takes one long look behind him, in the direction where home lies, before he decides to check it out. If it’s something, Scott is sure that Stiles will appreciate it and add it to his collection. He’s late anyways, Scott reasons with himself as he swims down, brushing past a shoal of fish, what’s the worst that can happen.

—

"Be careful!" Gerard barks at the men pulls on a thick rope, steadily pulling their prize up to the surface. "He’s fighting enough as it is! I don’t want the ropes to break!" 

The old man watches the strained rope and how it sways against the pulley. The merman’s putting up quite a fight. Just like last time. He grins as he sees the net begin to rise out of the water, stepping towards the open space on the boat.

He is taken aback when he sees a different merman. “Well.” Gerard says, eyeing the dark haired boy that is clinging to the net with a panicked expression in his eyes. “It’s a different one but a job well done!” He turns towards his son standing behind him, a greedy smile on his lips. “Call the client. Tell him we’re still ready to do business.”

Chris nods, turns on his heel and walks towards the cabin. Gerard looks back at the young merman, eyes his tight grip on the net and the silver gleam between his fingers.

He sneers at the merman’s sharp glare, amused that this creature who was fooled by a shiny trinket, a simple stopwatch, would look at him like that. Gerard has a hard time holding in his laughter the longer the merman glares at him. As though the creature could do anything to harm him.

—

There’s a boat out tonight. That’s Stiles’ first sign that something is amiss. Rarely do boats leave the dock at night and it’s even rarer than they would come to this side of the coast.

He stays submerged, keeping only his eyes above the surface as he watches the humans busily move stop the boat. Stiles wonders if there is some special purpose or reason for this boat to be out well into Moon Time. Especially on a night like tonight when the tide is high and the sea is choppy?

Stiles longingly eyes the shoreline. The beach looks beautiful under the soft moonlight, as though it’s carved out of pale stone rather than soft-harsh sand. But given that Derek is no where in sight, Stiles lingers.

He ducks down when the humans begin to yell, nose and gills under the water as a whole bunch of men grab at a rope and begin to pull.  _'Are they hunting?'_ Stiles ponders in confusion. It’s a little unusual but human are unusual all together to him. 

Oh, Stiles thinks as he sees the net being pulled up. They  _are_ hunting something. He presses up against the nearest rock, hefting himself up for a closer look. Is it fish? Or perhaps something else, he thinks excitedly, something forbidden! That has to be why they’re out at nigh-

His heart drops down to his tail when he sees  _Scott_  trapped in the net, blue and silver trail thrashing like mad against the material. Stiles almost darts out from behind his hiding place when sees how Scott’s every effort is only tangling him worse into the net.

Panic settles like a cold stone in the pit of his stomach as the humans yank the net into the boat, taking Scott out of his sights. Stiles digs his nails into the rock, tail swishing in agitation as he wonders what to do. His body moves to and fro with the water, indecision making him sink down.

He could return home and tell his father and Melissa what has happened. But that means explaining why he was on the surface. Not to mention figure out an excuse as to why  _Scott_ was top side as well. (Which is an excellent question he is going to ask his best friend about first chance he gets).

The other option is to follow the boat and see where it leads. Yes, Stiles decides, swallowing down the lump in his throat. First he’ll figure out where they’re taking Scott and then… and then…

Stiles’ thoughts die a swift death when he sees a familiar face. It’s the old man who had captured him! Confusion and anger sweep through him in equal parts as the man holds onto the railing and yells something at the other humans that has them all scurrying like restless crabs. 

He watches the fishing boat drift away and thinks… he thinks…

Stiles presses his forehead to the hard rock, squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think of  _something, anything, please_ that will help him rescue Scott. But his mind is frustratingly quiet. Not without a single suggestion or even a comment, that might help.

With a pained noise, Stiles watches the boat drift out of sight and wonders if the old man will keep Scott in the same tank from where Derek had resc-

_'Derek!'_ Stiles thinks, his entire body straightening with a snap. Surely the werewolf could help! With that thought, Stiles turns towards the shore and is relieved beyond words that they had picked tonight for their meeting rather than tomorrow. He’s not sure if he could have survived that wait.

He swims as fast as he can towards their rocky alcove, hoping that Derek is already there. ‘ _Please let him be there please oh please by Psamathe’s name let him already be there.’_  Stiles prays over and over again to every deity he can name and think of, straining his tail and fin as he pushes himself to swim faster and faster.


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning:** Stiles comes close to having a panic attack but it’s not mentioned in great detail

—

A pair of seagulls eye him curiously, making an inquisitive noise when Derek shifts in the sand. He brings his knees up, wrapping both arms around them in the hopes to allay the chill spreading through him.  _'Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.'_  Derek thinks to himself, making a face when he remembers eyeing his jacket on the way out the door.  _'I should have grabbed that before leaving.'_  
  


But Derek had been so eager to see Stiles. He had grabbed his gym bag stuffed with a complete change of clothing and several random items and books he thought the merman would like to examine. The Happy Meal toys though, Stiles was more than happy to keep. If only he’d show up.

Derek sighs quietly, tempted to check how much time has passed since his last peek.  _'Probably just a few minutes.'_ That makes the werewolf sigh yet again, fingers tapping the red scales of his bracelet against each other. What could be keeping Stiles?

Could it be revenge for making Stiles wait that one time?  _'Maybe I got the time wrong? I wonder how merpeople manage time anyways…'_

He looks up at the moon. The sickle has moved well past the middle of the sky, yawning at the far horizon. Maybe Stiles is just late. That’s the most plausible explanation.  
  


Something splashes behind the rocky walls of the cove but Derek doesn’t bother looking up. It’s probably another fish jumping out of the water or some wave hitting the rocks. Whatever it is, it isn’t Stiles, that’s for sure.  
  


"Derek!" The werewolf looks up in surprise, already smiling as he catches sight of Stiles’ form swimming up to him. He’s on his feet immediately, good mood evaporating as fast as it appears when he sees the frantic look on the merman’s face. "Derek!"

Stiles’ panicked yell has Derek on his feet and in the water within seconds. He forgets about everything except Stiles, holding his hands out for the merman to take as he comes up to him. “What happened?” Derek asks in rising alarm, gut twisting when he notes Stiles’ pallor and worried face.  
  


Stiles’ grip on his forearm is tight but cold. “You’re here!” The merman pants, “Thank the sea gods!”

"What is it? Did something happen?" Derek asks again, bent over the merman as he does his bet to keep Stiles above the surface. It doesn’t even occur to him that he could sit down in the water. As Stiles tries to catch his breath, Derek’s worry only rises. What could have happened that’s got Stiles so panicked?

Stiles gulps in a few lungfuls of air, wheezing in between. “You must help me! I need your help!” The merman grasps at him, his grip tight and painful enough to make Derek wince momentarily. He falls down to his knees, hoping that if he holds Stiles then maybe the merman will calm down enough to speak more coherently.

Derek’s not even one knee down when Stiles throws himself on him, arms wrapping around the werewolf’s shoulders as he whimpers, “I’m so relieved to see you! I was so afraid you wouldn’t be here or that I was too late and you had left already! I’m not sure what I would have done if I had come here and found you already gone!”

  
Despite the fact that he’s more or less soaked, and Stiles isn’t helping on that front either, Derek feels his cheeks grow hot. He sternly tells his libido to take a hike for now before carefully wrapping his hands around Stiles. “It’s alright. It’s alright. I’m here.” Derek says soothingly, running a hand up and down the merman’s back.

It takes a while for Stiles’ grip to slacken enough for Derek to pull away and ask, “Did something happen?”

Stiles’ face tightens further as he hurriedly explains what he’s just witnessed. “I don’t know what Scott was doing up but the old man who captured me has now captured Scott! I need to find him! Before the old man tries to sell Scott off! I’ll never see him again if that happens! You have to help me Derek! Please!”

He doesn’t know how to describe the scent that suddenly pours off Stiles but it, coupled with the sharp rise in the merman’s heartbeat and suddenly shallow breathing, makes Derek grab Stiles’ face. Scared brown eyes peer at him, looking so hopeless that it makes Derek want to whine with distress.

"Listen to me," Derek begins, hoping that he sound reassuring enough. "I’ll help you find Scott and free him. We’ll save him before anything bad can happen to him. I _promise_ I’ll help you. I promise."

It’s difficult to hold Stiles’ unblinking gaze, especially when he looks so hopelessly lost. And so young. So distressingly young. Derek feels his heart ache at the same time his determination solidifies. He’s grateful now that he’s sort of talked to his mom about this because they’re going to need all the help they can get against Gerard Argent.

His rescue of Stiles had been nothing more that sheer dumb luck, possible only because of the party going on and the fact that Gerard hadn’t expected any of his guests to accidentally stumble into the hidden room in the basement.

Ah. Speaking of which, he ought to tell his mom the whole truth about Gerard - how the man was clearly neck deep in severely illegal trade. Derek felt like smacking himself. Why the hell hadn’t he told her about what was going on in the Argent house? Stupid, he was so stupid! Maybe if he had told her sooner then… 

No. He isn’t going to think like that. What’s done is done, or not done in this case. Derek peers into Stiles’ eyes and repeats his words with greater conviction. “We’re going to find Scott and get him back to the ocean.”

"Thank you." Stiles’ breathed out, going back to hugging Derek. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" 

The praise feels unwarranted, especially the manner in which Stiles is giving it. Derek feels like pointing out that he hasn’t even done anything yet and thus any thanks is unnecessary. So he continues to hold Stiles against him, waiting for the merman’s grip to relax before gently pulling away. “You should go back. I’ll handle it from here.”

Stiles blinks and frowns at Derek’s words. “ _You’ll_ handle it? I’ll be helping too!”

That’s the last thing he expects to hear from the merman. Derek stares back in surprise before giving Stiles’ tail a hard look. “I don’t want to sound rude but how? Scott’s on land and you’re…. well.”

The merman looks down at his own tail, frowning harder before shaking his head. “You leave that up to me. Just promise me that you will not do this without me there. Scott is as good as a brother to me. I _have_ to help him.” 

He  _really_ doesn’t like the sound of this. “How are you going to…” Derek waves a hand down at Stiles’ tail. 

"I do not know yet. But I know someone who might." Yeah. Derek really isn’t liking the sound of this.

—

As he swims away from his home, Stiles feels his guilt solidifying inside his chest. His dad will no doubt worry when he wakes up and finds Stiles gone. Hopefully the letter he’s left behind will assuage his dad’s concerns.

‘ _Doubtful.’_ Stiles thinks to himself. If he were in his dad’s position and found out that his son’s left behind a vague message saying ‘Scott got captured by the same humans who had taken me but don’t panic! I’ve asked the werewolf pack on land for assistance and I’m going Above to help them. Don’t worry about me. I’ll try to be back as soon as I can, with Scott. Please tell Melissa not to worry as well. I hope to be back in a few days, no more than 3 or 4.’

He wishes that he had added the point that he was going to one of the more well respected, and highly cryptic, sea witches for help. Hopefully Marin Morrell will take pity on him and aid him. And he really hopes that she doesn’t ask for a lot of money - he only has 240 sea dollars. But hopefully it’ll be enough.

His journey to Ms. Morrell’s cave is quiet and uneventful. Stiles doesn’t meet anyone along the way and neither does he run into any of the patrolling guards. It’s only when he arrives outside Ms. Morrell’s cave that Stiles realizes the lateness of the hour and frets.

All it takes is the reminder that Scott’s life is at risk and Stiles is rapping the clam shell against the stone. He really hopes that Ms. Morrell is one of those witches who, upon being dragged out of their bed well past curfew, are in a good mood. 

He tries to peek through the curtain of sea weed, wondering if he’s imagining movement inside. “Mr. Stilinski.” Stiles starts, tail flapping hard enough to send him swimming a few inches up in the water. He twists around to see the dark haired witch smirking at him, floating right behind him.

Stiles waves his hand at her, wanting to shake off his shock  _and_ express his surprise. “How did you  _do_ that?!” He yells, pointing at the entrance and then at her. “And was that necessary?!”

She smiles, enigmatic and amused. Alright, so she’s not going to tell him how she’d snuck up on him but must she look so smug about it? “I’m sure you’re aware of the late hour. I hope you have a good reason to come to me.”

"I need your help." Stiles says, letting some of his desperation bleed through. "It’s Scott. He’s been captured by the same humans who caught me."

Ms. Morrell stares at him, dark eyes searching his before she gestures towards the cave. “Inside.” Heaving a relieved sigh, Stiles watches her sweep a hand before the swaying leaves. The plant quivers and parts, neat and smoothly as she pleased. Glancing over at the witch, Stiles presses his lips together and swims into the cave.

And he hopes that he isn’t making a terrible mistake.

**Author's Note:**

> [Meeya](http://candypinkcocks.tumblr.com) & [Cofie](http://littlecofiegirl.tumblr.com) @ Tumblr


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